Identify what is most important )0( Eliminate everything elseThe idea that some lives matter less is the root of all that is wrong with the world. Dr. Paul FarmerThe suffering of others is not alleviated when no one knows about it.There is no one right way to live. Daniel QuinnIshmaelThe only thing that you need to start an asylum is an empty room and the right sort of people.We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful about what we pretend to be. Kurt Vonnegut

Monday, July 29, 2013

testing

I do not test well. I am smart, at least as smart as the proverbial cookie, and I love to learn. I can remember a stunning amount of just about everything. Even at the library, one of the staff will ask me to provide a word or quote or factoid of some kind.

I love learning. It keeps my brain all juiced up. I like that. Crappy body, but great mind. Even as I age, my memory and faculties are better than most of my friends, and that is not just hubris talking.

So, anyway, this weekend was the scheduled time to take the examination for certification for the training I took earlier this month to become a Peer Specialist. It is a pretty cool thing, something that I already do in a more casual way and a set of skills that interest me more than I can express. Seriously, I can be rendered speechless on occasion.

The schedule for the exam to be available was from last Thursday morning until tomorrow at 5:00 p.m.

I thought I was prepared.

I was not.

That thing was a killer. There was one question about the twelve building blocks of recovery for which I drew a complete and utter blank. I wrote that as the beginning of my answer and then just went ahead and started thinking and typing, sitting back, thinking, typing. The testing people suggested that because computers can be weird, that it might be a good idea to copy and save our answers to the test, and I did that. I was so bummed and had the beginnings of a decent headache when I finished, so I have not gone back to read what I wrote for that question. I just pulled recovery mumbo-dumbo-jumble out of my ass and tried to choose aspects of my own recovery for that.

Truth is, I had to do that more than a few times. Another truth is that I wrote too much for some of the questions and the chances are excellent that I totally fucked up. In my heart I believe that I did a credible job, that I will easily meet the 70 % minimum correct answer level, but I have this sinking, terrible, total shipwreck feeling that I will be retaking the exam sometime next year. Just writing this is making my head throb all over again.

That exam was so freaking hard!!!!!!!!!!!!! Arrrrrrgh! I am still so distressed by the whole experience that I cannot sleep and 3:00 a.m. is too late to take any antihistamines in an attempt to get any decent rest tonight. This morning now.

I was so rattled that I went around the place, looking for cash so that I could order in some comfort Chinese food or a dozen pizzas for dinner. I had enough money for some of that, minus most of the pizzas, but it was too difficult to decide what I wanted, place an order and wait for delivery. So, I had popcorn. It was really, really delicious. Were I not stunningly salted to the top of my aching head, I would make some more; it was that good.

After I decided to pop dinner, my next thought was to try to contact one of the people with whom I took the training and for whom I have developed a fondness. I did not, even though restraint is not one of my strengths, but I avoided delivery dinner and I figured I could find a way to not bother him; he probably does not even remember me anyway, I though.

So, full of fluffy kernels, lips a little raw from the salt, I settled down to play games on my computer. When, what to my surprise and delight, that guy messaged me and share a bit about his experience with the exam. Or, is it just a test? Who care. Seriously.

Anyway, I messaged back, but it must have been a type-and-run, because he never answered back. But, he is not safe from me, as I am dedicated to not suffer alone with this testing/examining/calculated to make crazy people even crazier day. I swear by all I hold holy, that I will not suffer alone. Oh. Wait. I forgot that I am struggling with all that holy jazz. Well, I swear by something. I do. Swear.

Now to bed, perchance to read myself into oblivion. Or, at least a short nap before I have to finish all that organizing tomorrow.

About Me

I am 66 years old, mother, grandmother, friend, all the rest. Artist and domestic abuse survivor, married 45 years, now on my own, with CoolCat, just making a life for ourselves. I am more than that - suspect I might be -sincerely hope I am. This is my journey to find who I really could be. This blog is the part of that journey that heralds my renewed connections with the world and people I love, even if we have never met.